I AM
by Penname.Of.Doom
Summary: Maximum Ride is a famous pop star and is different from other teen sensations she just wants to be normal and find people who like her for her. She gets an idea to get a new alias and attened local high school, where she hopefully met an ordinary guy. Fax
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Maximum Ride But I Do Own Any And All Additional Characters That I Have Created For The Purpose Of This Story, Inclusion Of The Plot. _

**( I Am… )**

**[Prologue**

"Why can't they ever just leave me alone?" I complained, my voice muffled to who ever was listening, as I kept trying to burry my head further into the pillow, trying to make the shouts of all the camera men at the front of my house go away.

You would think that any child that had celebrity parents, me, would be used to all the attention, and they would love and be perfectly comfortable with been able to see there life story in the tabloids, hell most of the kids love it. But me been the odd one out in the family, I hate it.

My parents as you have most likely heard of them and know of them as, Dr. Martinez, lead researcher in finding a cure for cancer, then my Dad, Jeb Bacheldor, not quite as famous as Mom but still, been a washed up movie director means that at one point in your life that you were famous and you did make some money – amazingly he still has some left. And like most couples on the western coast of America, they are divorced and even thought they live one other ends of the country, somehow they always manage to have a magical meeting that might look like they are getting back together, according to the exclusive scoops that is.

"Honey, don't worry about them," I heard my boyfriend say. I removed the pillow from my head and looked up at his perfect face. He was grinning his amazing grin while he spoke and continued to do so after he had finished, but his eyes lacked the conviction to make me believe that he meant it.

The other perks of been wealthy and having celeb parents. Such as an awesomely hot boyfriend that the tabloids so gratefully approve that we are a cute couple, well to quote my boyfriend from earlier, 'We aren't just a cute couple, we are officially the 'It' couple.' I couldn't give a give a damn if we were the ugliest couple in America.

"But, why won't they go away?" I whinged and got my reward. I saw him cringe.

Now why would I want to make my perfectly good-looking and equally as famous boyfriend suffer? Why not? He thought like any other guy I was around, that was nothing more than some blonde bimbo. Which to his disappointment I'm not, we always fight about how I'm not playing my part, which is to stand behind him and look pretty. So he totally deserved to be punished for been so sexist and judgemental.

On the topic of Wonder Boy (my boyfriend), was stereotyped to have the same supposed personality as me except he had more testosterone and was allowed to cheat on his partner in a relationship and had to be forgiven, according to the tradition. The sad fact is that his stereotyped was true and he really was like that.

Worse and stranger I think that I felt something towards him…or it could just be lust for the results of his compulsive work out raceme or just the pressure from my sister to at least not embarrass the family and try to at least act like I am supposed to.

"Well…I don't know," as usual, Wonder Boy was struggling to come up with a smart reply, "Well, your so famous and we are the 'It' couple, why wouldn't they want to follow us around? Don't you want to be seen in photos with me?"

"I don't want to be in any photos, full stop!"

It was irritating enough that I couldn't make intelligent conversation with him, but having to repeat everything I say just so he can understand. Just try to guess how many times a day I have to remind myself a day that all of this is for my sister? I don't know either, I loose count generally after the thousands.

"Well, do you wanna go out somewhere then?" he asked.

"No. That would involve leaving the house and may I remind you that we are surrounded?" I snapped at him, not feeling the slightest bit of remorse afterwards.

He sighed and closed his eyes. He wasn't the only one getting angry there. He opened his eyes and started back at me with his flat, no longer having their usual sparkle in them, dark green eyes. A piece of stylised and highlighted dirty blonde hair fell in front of his face. He looked at me and leant down, his face centimetres away from mine…I then saw that he was extending his lips and his eyes were closed.

"What are you doing?" I asked. Seriously I had no idea, and that still does not prove that I am actually an air head either.

"Kissing you," he said, his eyes still closed and his lips still pressed together as he waited eagerly for my own pair to meet against his.

I was not in the right sort of mind to with stand one of his sloppy kisses and not make a snide comment to him afterwards. So I made no move and stayed right were I was, waiting for him to realise that I wasn't going to lean forward and kiss him.

His eyes opened and he looked rather hurt, that I had just not instantly leant forward to kiss him, but I had done way worse then hesitating, I hadn't kissed him at all. He huffed and gave me a side glare before he pulled himself up into a upright position and then off the couch and I was hot on his heals, getting up barely a micro second after him. As I got up thought I was surprised when the pillow softly landed and it hit my feet before it tumbled on to the ground, not that I really cared what happened to it.

Wonder Boy gave me a level look and regarded me carefully, I think the message was, 'I'll let you off for not wanting to kiss me this time, so consider yourself lucky.'

His nose flared as he spat out, "I'll see you at the red carpet." With no further parting words he grabbed his worn out designer red leather motorbike jacket or as I liked to call it, a hoodie, so much nicer sounding isn't it? And he stalked out of the lounge room. From where I was I hear him slam the door and the sound vibrated of the high walls of now the much bigger and lonelier mansion I was in. Also the squeals and screams of the deranged psychos out the front increased.

I groaned and flopped back down onto the couch. Bracing myself for Ella going off at me when she read that Wonder Boy and me had yet another tiff. I could hear her voice then, 'that's the third one this week! Don't you know anything about guys? Your supposed to be the dumb one in the relationship etc.'

So you think what you read above was interesting life, huh? So full of lies and twists? Unfortunately my name is Maximum Ride and the above life is mine. And I hate it.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Maximum Ride But I Do Own Any And All Additional Characters That I Have Created For The Purpose Of Thi

_Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Maximum Ride But I Do Own Any And All Additional Characters That I Have Created For The Purpose Of This Story, Inclusion Of The Plot_

**(I Am…)**

**Chapter 1Faded**

I stood myself squarely in front of the gold leaf encrusted mirror specifically positioning at a certain angle to get the best visual perspective. I was looking my reflection straight in the eyes, studying the golden brown irises that supposedly belonged to me, very carefully, not wanting to miss any details.

But, from what I was seeing, I was lacking in something majorly. My eyes seemed to lack the spark of life that in my opinion indicated that a person was alive. So since I didn't have it did it mean that I was dead? Or that I was just the biggest fake to ever exist?

Coming to that revelation I hastily looked away from my eyes and went on to study the rest of my face. The next feature I chose to pick on was my hair. It came across to me as been childish and a burden that I couldn't believe I had been wearing all this time and to top it off, it also looked sickeningly fake. The bangs that framed my face made me look like a doll of some kind, without the tan. But when I got outside it was like I absorbed the sun and tanned instantly. The freckles on the bridge of my nose looked like they had been sprayed on over a layer of foundation, to try and make me look like some cute poster child.

Just like that in my hollow eyes I looked so unhappy and withdrawn from the world that I almost pitied myself. Then I felt a fire begin to burn from the base of my head at what I had let myself become…I turned my head away sharply from the mirror, because if I had of kept looking than the fire would have won and I most likely would have punched the mirror and gotten hurt, which wouldn't be good because I needed to look my best for the red carpet.

Angry once again that such a thought had just waltzed into my brain I ran across my room and collide with several pillows that were littered across my extremely wide window seat. I rose my head up from the pillow and propped it on the windowsill, ignoring the pains of my chin at been squished against such a hard surface.

I scanned frantically trying to find something to look at that would drown out the mental images I had of myself from the mirror. They felt like they had been seared into my brain with a red-hot knife. Of course how would I know what it really felt like? My eyes rested on the beach and the sun setting over the horizon. The orange and yellowing making the ocean look like a beautiful sparkling ruby, in all of it's perfection.

I groaned out loud.

_Perfection…_

That's what I was trying to get away from. Stupid bloody perfection. I knew it was all around me, it had been my whole life…my life it's self was supposed to be perfect. But perfect wasn't what I longed for. To me it was so wrong and cold, there was no point in it.

I wanted something normal. That's all I wanted.

No. Not just something normal. I wanted to be normal.

To be the kind of teenager that got out to see the world and wasn't stuck living in such a screwed up reality filled with stupid ideologies that had no purpose. There was a normal girl inside of me that had been crying to come out all along, but every time I put on another layer of foundation or makeup she kept on been pushed down and was been crushed by the weight of all of the layers that I carted around.

Slowly she had faded away…growing even more unhappy until I turned out like I am now, absolutely miserable and disgusted with myself, by what I had become. But in the short term what could I do about it?

I sat up and pondered that questioned while I kept my eyes trained on the out side world, like I had the hope that my soul would escape from my condemned prison, of endless torture of the eyelash curler, and see the rest of the world, as been free.

I ran my hands through my hair, just noticing that I was breathing heavier then usual. I tried to clear my overwhelmed mind that was literally been ripped in two, by what I wanted to think and what I had been brainwashed into thinking my whole life. The internal battle. Almost like there was not only my voice inside my head…

"Enough!" I shouted out loud. My voice echoed in my room and sent a shiver up my spine as my mind became quiet once more.

The silence did me some real good. For once the normal girl won. She had been waiting for this day for years and she was so excited that finally that she was going to be able to put into effect a plan which she had been working on…

**A/N: I'll explain now, Max may sound like a nut case saying that there are two sides of her. But just imagine how you have your own conscience and like how you make choices. Or to make it really complex, image the subconscious mind and the 'normal girl' always wanted to come out and take control. Another example is when you go high and you can call it your 'Inner Child' coming out to play. **

**I know it sounds really weird but its fan fiction…aren't things meant to be weird? (Not meaning to insult anybody's fan fiction!!)**

**And I am really sorry about the mix up with 12 Days of Christmas…and yeah, Thanx to those who did actually reviewed the chapter…LOL!**

**Review please! **


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